


dreaming

by cembree



Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Villainspe, fatherlyshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 08:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15682029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cembree/pseuds/cembree
Summary: She wouldn't be the first person sent to kill him.





	dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Villainspe AU, mangaverse. Currently suffering writer's block, wrestling with a mountain of WIPs, and I really need to go do my work...so I wrote this. To be honest, I prefer gameverse fatherlyshipping, with lots of arguing, questionable tension, and third-wheeling on the PC's part.

"I love you, Janine."

"Love you too, I guess."

He struggled long and hard against his attraction to her. She alone understands his simultaneous anger and admiration towards his father, because Koga's been gone so long she's almost forgotten the sound of his voice. Loving and adoring him is a habit now, a meticulously ingrained filial devotion passed through the generations.

_I'm not looking to follow his footsteps_ , she says with a nonchalant eye roll when Falkner accuses her of being a Rocket spy.  _I'm looking for_ answers _._

She tells him repeatedly, fervently, that she's  _not_  Team Rocket or her father, that she despises his greed and cowardice and abandonment. Falkner doesn't quite believe her, and she doesn't expect him to. He's not one of Johto's premier policemen for nothing. She wouldn't be the first person sent to kill him.

_But she_ will  _be the last._

And yet, he gives in. He can't fight the warmth and lust of their first glance, the way her purple eyes pierced the carefully constructed cage of his soul and let him into the web of her being. He can't resist or deny the unique camaraderie that binds them and renders even the most mundane of her words magnetic.

It would all be so entertaining if she weren't falling for him.

In the forefront of her mind, she yells at herself to stay  _focused_ , to remember her mission, and hasn't she killed opponents burlier and more intimidating than he? No, she can't be his friend, his lover, his confidante, or any of the above.

Falkner is finally at ease, every muscle in his body completely relaxed. Maybe it's the post-orgasmic haze. Maybe he's actually stupid enough to trust her.

Janine leans against him, dwelling in the comfort of his embrace. He's rambling on and on about how much he loves her, about the prettiness of her face and the clarity of her skin, and something about how she satisfies every criteria he's ever sought in a romantic partner. Her locket lies cold on her skin, because he didn't have the patience to undo the clasp, and she remembers the venom lying within: the pinnacle of her clan's work, deadly and efficient and traceless.

Despite herself, the tears well out of her face. First, it's one drop, and then it's two, and then she can't breathe through her nose.

"What's wrong?" Falkner asks her tenderly, leaning in to wipe away her tears. His fingers are so lovely, she thinks, calloused and lanky and skilled.

"Nothing," she lies. "I'm-"

"I understand we haven't known each other for very long at all," he says. She lets him fill the silence with his own assumptions. "But it feels like I've known you all my life."

Yes. They both have daddy issues.

"I've never met someone," he continues, "with whom I share so many emotions. Maybe we differ in our values, though that is expected from our upbringings. It's too early to say anything for sure, but maybe we could do this more. Become more than friends. I believe, a life in this manner will be happy forev-"

_No._

It's now or never.

The needle punctures him like butter. She's studied the arteries of his neck in excrutiating detail, so it's fast and painless. He's caught entirely by surprise.

Immediately, Janine fumbles for the antidote. Then she remembers that she didn't bring any, in case she chickened out and healed him.

Her father didn't raise a quitter.

Falkner's dying before her, the life and color draining from his cheeks and the stars of his eyes. His hair lies like a splash of night sky across his face, his once composed frame collapsing into the huddle of blankets. Sounds escape his mouth. She understands none of it.

In a fit of passion (regret), Janine lifts up his head and kisses him one last time, sucking the last bits of solace from his cold lips. He reciprocates, the best he can, and then he's slumping into her arms-

* * *

She dreams of a reality where her father remains by her side, where he didn't sell their souls to Team Rocket. He twirls her, laughing, like he used to when she was almost too little to remember, and she screams at him to put her down even though her spirit feels like liquid mirth.

Maybe that's too ambitious.

She imagines an alternate ending, where Falkner grabs her hands before she manages to stab him and begs her in his firm, desperate way to  _stop_. He talks her into running away, something about Kalos being beautiful this time of the year (and so very far away from Tohjo). She tells him it's stupid, and then she's preparing disguises while he plans their path of escape. There are other criminal syndicates, of course, because Kalos is a society, but none of them are Team Rocket and none of them care about the two former Gym Leaders who've forgotten the trappings of their nobility and now hide with their family, thousands of miles away from home.

Her empty love story lasted only for sixteen nights.

The haunting lasts only for a lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback appreciated. Thanks for reading!


End file.
